


Experimental Veganism

by miniaturedragonfly



Series: Advanced Culinary Arts [2]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post-Episode: s05e05 Geothermal Escapism, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniaturedragonfly/pseuds/miniaturedragonfly
Summary: Shirley makes vegan brownies for Britta when she realizes Britta feels excluded.  They talk some stuff out.
Relationships: Shirley Bennett & Britta Perry
Series: Advanced Culinary Arts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011546
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Experimental Veganism

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I've realized that the timing of this fic is kind of messy in the context of the series, there are a lot of moving parts to this narrative, just go with it, love you all <3

All week, Shirley found herself thinking back to how sad Britta had looked when Shirley admitted that the cookies she’d baked for Hickey hadn’t been vegan. She didn’t feel _bad_ about it—the cookies were for Hickey, and she’d chosen the recipe specifically because she thought it would appeal to him, which meant old-fashioned, all-American ingredients like butter and eggs. But she felt bad about making Britta feel left out, especially after the Meat-fu debacle.

At first, Shirley ignored the feeling. Her coconut lemon squares were unintentionally vegan, and she tried to work them into the rotation as often as she could—though every time she brought them, somebody invariably brought up Buddy, who had brought them lemon squares once as part of his campaign to be allowed to join the study group. She resolved to make them the next week, so Britta would know that she was loved.

After a few days of feeling like a good person, though, Shirley started to doubt that lemon squares were the answer. She’d been resistant to the whole idea of modifying her recipes to be vegan, because she believed that eggs and milk played vital roles in the chemistry of the baking process. She didn’t want to compromise the integrity of her recipes by substituting any of the ingredients with things Britta could eat, like tapioca starch or whatever “aquafaba" was.

But Britta was sad, and Shirley knew it was her fault. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t, but deep down she knew that she was making Britta feel unwelcome at her table, and that wouldn’t do.

So Shirley set to work. She started by googling “vegan baked goods”, but that returned such a staggering list of results that she had to step away from the problem for a day or two and narrow down her options. She had had no idea that there were so many vegan recipes out there in the world.

Tuesday night, as Shirley washed the dishes from her dinner, she mulled over what she would bake for Britta. She had already made cookies for Hickey, and a cake or pie both seemed excessive. Mini-pies would be more casual, but she’d avoided making mini-pies for the study group ever since Troy and Abed’s housewarming party. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and opened her cupboard, searching for inspiration in her ingredients.

A tin of cocoa powder sat square in the middle of the shelf, as if waiting for her to find it. Shirley smiled. Brownies would be perfect for Britta. _Of course, she probably prefers them to be_ pot _brownies_ , Shirley thought wryly, but she smiled as she headed to her computer.

A few hours of fervent googling later (she glanced at the clock when she came up for air, and realized with a start that she’d need to leave the actual baking for tomorrow), Shirley had selected the three most promising vegan brownie recipes she could find. She printed the recipes and taped them up above her stove in preparation for her experiment to begin.

The next day, Shirley stopped at the grocery store on her way home, to pick up the ingredients she didn’t already have at home. Her shopping list was shorter than she had expected it to be—it seemed like most of the recipes used ingredients she was familiar with, just in new ways.

She headed home and devoted the rest of her evening to preparing all three batches of brownies, one after another. It took a long time, but it was the most alive she’d felt in a long time, juggling three brand-new recipes and flying around the kitchen, singing along to the radio at full volume.

Once all three batches were out of the oven, Shirley placed one of each on a plate, poured a glass of water and, after a moment's consideration, a glass of milk, and carried it all to the couch on a tray. She sat down and turned on an episode of _Law & Order_ that she’d already seen, because she liked having some background noise but wanted to be able to focus on the brownie taste test.

The first batch had turned out a little too cake-like for Shirley’s taste (she liked cake just fine, but these were supposed to be brownies). The second batch had much better texture, but weren’t quite sweet enough. The third batch wasn’t quite as fudgey as the second, or as sweet as the first, but they were the brownies Shirley was most satisfied with, so she packed them up in a plastic container to share with the study group the next day.

Shirley wrapped the other two batches of brownies in foil and set them in the fridge, then realized just how many brownies there were. She sighed. She still wasn’t used to cooking for one.

Normally, when Shirley was unhappy with the results of a baking experiment, she kept it to herself and didn’t allow any of her friends to taste the failed batch—she had a reputation to uphold, after all. But this time, she decided that she might as well attempt to make up for all the snacks Britta had missed out on over the years. Quantity over quality, just this once.

So the next morning, Shirley slid all three batches of brownies into her purse. She’d had to remove her map of the state of Colorado _and_ her spare pair of socks to make room, but she made it work.

She entered the study room excitedly and made her way to her seat. Before anybody could comment on her overstuffed purse, she pulled out the plastic container of the third batch and set it on the table.

“These are vegan brownies, made with almond milk and olive oil. No eggs, either,” she added when Britta opened her mouth to ask.

Annie smiled at Shirley, but Shirley hardly noticed. She was busy watching Britta’s face as she bit off the corner of one of the brownies. This was it, the moment of truth.

The instant Britta tasted the brownie, her face broke into a wide grin. “These are _incredible_ , Shirley. Are you sure they’re vegan?”

Shirley felt her cheeks flush, but forced herself to look Britta in the eye. “I’m sure. It was wrong of me to lie to you about my sandwich ingredients, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god, Shirley, I didn’t mean that! I just mean—okay, you’re right, that was shitty, but I forgive you because these brownies are _fantastic_ , and I’m not just saying that because I’m a little bit stoned right now.”

A silence fell over the study group like a blanket dropped from the ceiling. Slowly, the study group members swiveled their heads to look at Shirley, waiting for her reaction.

“I am," Shirley finally said, primly, "choosing not to have heard that.” Britta sighed a small sigh of relief.

“So, should we get started?” Annie suggested, taking a bite of her own brownie. “Oh, these are really good, Shirley, you should make them again.”

Abed and Jeff nodded in agreement. Hickey said nothing, but Shirley caught him reaching for a second brownie when he thought nobody was looking, and she smiled.

When the meeting ended, Shirley caught Britta before she could leave. As the rest of the Save Greendale Committee filed out of the study room, Shirley reached into her purse and handed the other two packages of brownies to Britta.

“I made three different recipes to find the best one. These two didn’t turn out as well as the ones in the container, and normally I’d keep them for myself to protect my reputation, but I’m the only one in my house now, and—“

Britta cut her off by throwing her arms around Shirley’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Shirley patted Britta’s back. “It’s long past due, and I knew it,” she confessed.

“That’s okay. I had the lemon squares,” Britta shrugged, breaking the hug. Shirley thought she saw the glisten of tears in Britta’s eyes, but she couldn’t be sure in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the library.

“The lemon squares were never enough. You’re my friend—you’re my _family_ , and that means _supporting_ your choices, not just putting up with them. That’s what you do when you love somebody,” Shirley finished, and now she knew Britta had tears in her eyes, but so did Shirley.

“Well, I’m glad you’re my family, Shirley,” Britta said, sliding the extra brownies into her bookbag. “And thanks for all the brownies. I won’t have to buy food for a week.”

“You’d _better_ put something other than brownies in you, Britta, I know exactly what’s in those brownies and they don’t come anywhere close to making up a balanced diet,” Shirley said sternly, in full-on mom mode.

Britta laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding. They’ll last longer if I space them out, anyway.”

“Well, when you run out, you let me know and I’ll make more. Or I’ll make something else you can eat. I owe you that,” Shirley promised.

“It’s not my diet you should be worried about, anyway,” Britta remarked, then went on. “Actually, between Jeff and his hard-boiled eggs, Hickey and his apocalypse rations, and Abed and his buttered noodles, I’m probably the _last_ person you need to worry about.”

Shirley frowned. “You’re right, Britta,” she nodded, but Britta was gone, having glanced at the clock on the wall and rushed out muttering curses under her breath. Shirley shrugged, replaced her now-much-lighter purse on her shoulder, and went out to her car. She had some work to do.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series in which Shirley bakes something for each member of the Save Greendale Committee during the latter half of season 5.


End file.
